After a while, I close the book, stand up and stretch. I've found some interesting ideas, but I need time to think over them. My stomach rumbles, and I realize I never ate lunch. I was so eager about Op Con that I brushed off Mom's suggestion of eating. I head back to Marea's room, fairly scurrying past the old witch of a librarian. When I return to the room, the doctor is talking to my mother.

"…If we go through with the surgery, you must understand the risks! Do you really want your daughter to not be able to walk for the rest of her life? She has so much to live for! Please consider the effect your decision could have. I would advise you not to have the surgery done, but in the end it is your choice. I will give you as much time as you need to think over this. To make sure you have enough time to think, I will refuse to operate on her for a week. If at the end of the week you still want it done, then…I will perform the surgery. Please make the wise decision for the sake of your daughter. Any decision you make will have a huge impact on the rest of her life." He sighed wearily, nodded, and exited the room.

"What on earth was that about, Mom?"

"I told the doctor that I want Marea to be able to see again, and that I want her to go through with the operation. He, obviously, does not think it's a very good idea."

"I have to agree with the doctor on this one. I mean, look at her." I glance at my sister, who was sleeping peacefully, her stomach gently rising and falling with each soft, sweet little breath. I can't imagine her never being able to run and play again. At least if she was only blind instead of paralyzed, she could use a cane to get around. But if the surgery went wrong…

"We just have to trust that God will lead us through this and that the outcome will be according to His will."

"He doesn't CARE, Mom! There is NO God and if there was, He must be pretty evil to do something like this to such an amazing and beautiful child as Marea!" I scream at my mom. I am fuming.

Marea moans softly and stirs. "Jessi? Sissy, is that you?"

Oh, no. I had woken her up. I gently walk over to her bedside and start playing with her long, curly hair. "Shhh," I whisper in an attempt to calm her. "Everything is okay. I'm sorry for screaming, sweetheart. I just get mad about some things. Everything is all right. Go back to sleep."

She looked in the direction of my voice. "I love you, Jessi. And Jesus loves you, too. Did you know that?" I smile and tears come to my eyes. She is so beautiful and caring. I have no doubt that she loves me.

But not even she can make me believe that there is a God or that He loves me.

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